One Dreamer and One Artist
by the-skywriter.321
Summary: What if Rose is the poor one and Jack is rich. When Rose saves Jack from committing suicide, the two falls in love. But complications starts because of theirs classes and Jack's engagement to a wealthy heiress. How will these two end up together before the Titanic hits the iceberg?
1. Chapter 1

_**My first Titanic fanfiction. So don't kill me. Enjoy and review.**_

Rose leaned her back against the wall, stretching her legs out on the bed. Her cabin is small but she sure is relieved that she won that poker game to win a ticket to get on the magnificent Titanic. But it's been only two days, she spent hours going about in every inch of the ship until it came to the point that she can navigate where she is going blindly. She returned to her cabin after a quick supper a while ago, and she is still bored.

Her eyes rolled dully up in the ceiling than down to her satchel. A smile curved on her lips once she realized she packed a few cigarettes on the way. With her foot, she pushed her satchel up to her hand, she grabbed it and dug her hand in until she felt the figure of a small box. She pulled it out and stuffed it in her coat pocket. The night is still young, and it's no good avoiding a good breeze to smoke a good cigarette. She closed the front sides of her coat together and got off the bed, heading out the door.

After going through a crowd of people, she finally reached to the deck. Nobody is in sight, the only sound heard is the harsh hitting of the waters and the strong cold wind. She walked over to an empty bench and sat down. She pulled out the small box out of her pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. She placed it in her mouth and lit a match, a few she kept with the cigarettes in the box, and lit the end of the cigarette on fire and blew it away. In a quick move, she flipped the match on the ground, lied herself down and placed one of her hands on the back of her head.

The dark navy sky is beautiful, shinning its numerous stars. Rose pulled out the cigarette out of her mouth, breathing out the smoke and placed it back in. With her focus at the lovely stars, she quietly enjoyed the lighted cigarette, taking it out of her mouth couple of times to breathe out the smoke.

~ Again Jack is in another dinner party. Never will he ever get use to wearing these uncomfortable tux, or having another argument with his fiancée over which bowtie he should wear for the evening. Here in the dinner table, the only thing that seems to be appealing is the dinner that has been served not while ago – a grilled veal, green garden salad, mashed potatoes, and warm homemade rolls with bottles of bubbly, champagne.

He is exhausted of hearing the same conversation and seeing the same people stopping by at the table briefly to say hello. While his fiancée, Kathy, continued discussing about the wedding, he took the chance to look around the room to avoid the annoying gasps from the women about the plans. All the guests are dressed in a ravishing and extravagant fashion, the women wearing their best dresses with diamonds and fine beading, the men dressed in their clean suits, all in black with either a white or a black bowtie. In other's eyes, they might consider this as an exciting warm party that anyone can enjoy being in. But in Jack's eyes, what he sees is misery. He considers these people like puppets, trapped with strings, performing the same performance in a box to children until they withers and breaks. Jack has been a "puppet" ever since his mother died. Though his family once was rich, his father ruined himself with a terrible gambling problem, and adding on to his comfort with alcohol. Mr. Dawson was never himself, even to this day the death of his beloved wife scars him deeply to be this horrible man.

Jack's engagement to Kathy is the only reason why his family's house is still standing. Once he's officially married, his father's debts can also be paid off. Kathy is aware that the whole affair is a convenient marriage, but she fell head over heels for Jack the first time she met him, she is willing to be his wife whether she has to play being his family's checkbook or not. Although the plans are already made for America, and his father is ever more relieved and relaxed than ever, the only one who is not ready or willing to go on with this is Jack. He does not love Kathy, or at least believe that time is a remedy to help him get close to her. She is a beautiful and elegant young woman. But she is not the person who is able to reach into Jack's dark, and tormented heart. She's not a strong person who is willing to heal vulnerability, she is raised to be spoiled for the rest of her life, she will never learn to understand the meaning of comforting a person's emotional wounds.

"Jack, darling, stop dozing off and talk to us," Kathy whispered, placing her gloved hand on his arm.

Jack returned his gaze at his bride-to-be. Without thinking, he released his self-control to stop playing along in this game of charades – pretending of actually loving this spoiled woman – and his plain expression deepened into a darkening look that nearly frightened Kathy. Her gloved hand moved away from his arm and returned to the island of her lap.

"Jack? Wh-Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't do this anymore," he grunted.

He pushed his chair out and immediately stood up to his feet. His father stopped talking to the gentleman who is seating beside him, and turned his attention at his son.

"Jack, sit back down."

"Excuse me," he said and left the table.

Kathy tried to grab his arm, but he left so quickly she didn't get a chance to lay a hand on him. His heart is beating like a mad drum as he marched out of the dining room.

_Air..I need air..._

With his body shaking and slightly damp from sweat, he made it out to the deck. He breathed in deeply into the fresh breeze, calming himself down.

Rose, still lying comfortably on the bench, turned her head a little and saw the well-dressed man struggling to breathe. Thinking he needed help, she sat upright, but seeing that he's fine, she leaned back on the bench relieved, blowing her lighted cigarette away.

_I can't do this anymore..I can't. What's the point of living if happiness doesn't exist? I can't even do anything on my own anymore..I don't even know what I want, or what I should do. How can I marry Kathy and expect my future to be perfect as she says? There will be no happiness. No peace. No freedom for me. None of that for anyone!_

Jack took a breath again, and looked around the deck. There's no one around except a woman, whom he's guessing is some beggar, on the bench. He speed walked across the deck until he made it to the edge of the deck. Without any hesitation, he climbed over the barred rails, and rested his feet on the open edges of the floor, his hand gripping on the rails, and his body facing the blue seas. Rose finished her cigarette and tossed it on the ground. She stood up to her feet, and crushed the burning short stick with her shoe. Suddenly, she caught the sight of Jack gripping onto the rails. Clearly she is aware that he is about to commit suicide. If anyone was in her position, they would grab that man and pull him over. But these cases must be taken carefully, it's a sensitive matter where Rose has to do everything she can to talk to the stranger before getting to the stage of physically pulling him over to safety.

She took steps closer to him, closing her jacket with her hands. "I wouldn't jump if I were you."

Jack turned his head immediately from the sound of her voice. "I'll jump if you get any closer. Just go away."

Rose immediately took pity in the man once she caught sight of tears streaming down his cheek. She has to try harder to convince the man.

She reached her hand in her pocket and pulled out her cigarette box. "Want a cigarette before you go down there?"

"No thanks..I won't be missing that."

She nervously lighted another cigarette for herself, it was hard lighting the fire at first but she managed. She blew the cigarette with a shaky hand, thinking hard as she can. She stepped closer to the rails, only a few inches away from him. Jack watched her closely, breathless from looking down at the terrifying water couple times.

Rose blew on her cigarette once more, and making sure he was looking, she tossed the cigarette in the water. He looked at the water with an unpleasant look. She sighed, feeling a little relief to see him slightly doubting his decision.

"You know I wouldn't go down there tonight. The water is pretty cold. You won't survive it."

The man paused for a moment. But feeling a little unsure of himself now, he asked her. "How cold?"

"Ice cold. Once you jump in the water, it'll feel like thousands of daggers piercing right through your soft flesh. Now that doesn't sound pleasant to you, now does it?"

Now he is convinced of that point she made, he looked down at the blue seas once more but with a pale completion. He never thought of the temperature of the water..But he'll be dead for the next two minutes, it might just be worth it.

Rose, unable to think of any more ideas, decided to beg him. "Okay. Just stop this and I'll help you. Clearly you don't want this. Once you kill yourself, what if you change your mind? You can't turn back, you'll never have the chance to change your mind. Now if you don't want that than don't do this," she inched closer to him bravely and opened out her hand, "Take my hand, and I'll help you. Please..."

Jack looked at Rose for a long moment, and then back at the water. He knows Rose is right, doing this is not exactly what he wants. His life may be too suffocating to be in. But death won't solve his father's debts, or his small relative who is depending on him to restore the family fortune. He slowly took her hand, and Rose gladly helped him. He climbed up the rail, and Rose made sure he did not slip. But suddenly, Titanic passed a large wave that made the ship shake, and once Jack got to the last bar of the rail, he accidentally jumped to land, landing on the ground on top of Rose.

At this moment, their eyes met. Jack, still breathless, took in a surprising moment into the eyes of the beautiful woman on top of him. Rose too fell mesmerized by the sight of his eyes, and didn't even bother to get him off her once help finally arrived.

"Jack! Oh Jack!" A feminine voice screeched.

Jack quickly got off Rose and helped her up before Kathy rushed over to him, and wrapped a gentleman's coat around him. She gave him a concerned look for a few short seconds, then turned to Rose who stood a bit shocked and disappointed – finding out he's seeing someone else – beside him.

"How dare you touch my fiancé? No one dares have the right to touch him. Who are you anyway?! Oh never mind. Arrest her immediately. She must have clearly tried to mug my dearest Jack."

The two officers beside her went over to Rose and grabbed her by both her arms. Jack stepped in to explain the whole issue.

"It was my fault, Kathy. Really?"

Kathy turned around, looking a bit appalled to hear this from him. "Your fault? Then what really happened, Jack?"

Jack gave a nervous eye at a quiet Rose, and then back at his determined Kathy. "Well, its really silly. You see, I had a terrible headache so I needed to step outside for a moment – I deeply apologize for walking out the room like that earlier, Kathy. Anyway, I caught sight of the sky, and I went over to the rails to see a better view of the uh..the uh um..."

He snapped his fingers a few times to think of a good lie to conclude this once and for all.

"The propellers?" Kathy asked.

Jack stopped his snapping and nodded. "That's right the propellers. I almost fell if it wasn't for this woman here. She saved me. So there really is no reason to arrest her."

"Oh well, that certainly is a relief," she turned around to face Rose, "I owe you an apology. I misunderstood the whole situation."

"There's no need. It happens." Rose answered.

The two officers released her arms. And followed a freezing Jack and Kathy leaving with arm to arm. But Jack stopped, and returned back to Rose.

"A person like you who saved someone's life deserves a reward. Why won't you join us for dinner tomorrow night? Please, come. "

The sound of Kathy's deadly heels started toward Jack. She took Jack by the arm. "Darling, there's no need to do that for this girl. You don't even know her."

"You're right, I don't. The two of us are complete strangers and yet she still saved me. And besides it's rude, is it not, of avoiding to award a woman who saved the man who you truly love?"

Kathy thought for a moment, a little speechless by that question. But she finally surrendered. "Do you have anything suitable to wear, Miss..Miss..."

"Bukater. Rose Dewitt Bukater."

"Quite a fancy name for a woman who wears a men's old coat with her outfit."

"Well, I have quite a story in my past, madam. I'll be delighted to talk about it during this fine dinner your fiancé here speaks of."

"I can't wait for the story, Miss Bukater. Now do you, or do you not have anything else to wear than what you are wearing now?"

"Yes I have clothes. But no, I have nothing else that's suitable for a fancy dinner."

"I thought so. I'll arrange an outfit for you, don't worry. You saved my beloved Jack's life, I won't let you be humiliated tomorrow night. Well, let's be off, Jack, I'm awfully tired. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, madam."

Kathy took Jack's arm and pulled him to leave. But Jack gave Rose a long last glance before returning to his fiancée's side. Once they all left, Rose returned to the bench she sat on earlier.

_A dinner with a bunch of wealthy snobs? Well, its not exactly what I would call a perfect evening. But I guess I got something from saving a suicidal man..whom I hope I will see again. Damn shame he's engaged to a horrible witch like that, though._

Rose returned to her cabin, and undressed herself. The hour is only nine. But the whole incident that has occurred exhausted her of wanting to sleep a lot early. She kicked off her boots, carefully placing her father's coat on top of her satchel, and slipped her dress over her head. Now only wearing a white peach underdress, she pulled her mother's silver hair comb off - allowing her red curls to fall, and slipped under the covers. Once her cheek touched the pillow she fell right to sleep, the silver comb resting in the fist of her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Titanic. This fanfiction is strictly based on the magnificent film, of course, there's a lot of changes I added but I hope you enjoy this love story about one of Hollywood's beloved couple, Rose and Jack, before the disaster happens. Enjoy.**_

The time changed to noon. Almost half the passengers stepped outside, going about to any room where they can stretch their legs. Rose, this time not wearing her father's old coat, changed into a white summer dress with sleeves, letting her hair down free to her shoulders as she remained seated on a bench with her precious sketchbook on one hand, and a pencil on the other.

A few feet away from her stands a father feeding bread to the seagulls with his five-year old son. The moment looks so heartwarming it tempted Rose to draw them out. She opened her sketchbook, flipping to a new page, and with her pencil, she began her work. Her two models, who has no idea that they're been drawn, moved a lot while they fed every bit of the bread they have. But Rose managed to catch the glimpse of their faces, and didn't mind of changing the body language in her drawing. Once she finished drawing them out, she pressed the side of her pencil to conclude her sketch with shading. The boy and his father walked away by the time Rose finished.

Rose stopped drawing and took a look at how she did. She is absolutely pleased of herself. The drawing of the man holding his little son's hand came out well, especially how the little boy tossed a few crumbs bread out in the water with a big smile.

"Miss Bukater?" A familiar voice started.

Rose lifted her head, squinting her eyes from the bright sunlight. Right in front of her, now blocking the brightness of the sun for her, stood Jack. He is dressed again fancily by his high-class, a gray wool suit with a light pink dress shirt tucked underneath his tunic, no tie hung on his neck instead the first two buttons not buttoned, and his shoes are leather brown. He stood there nervously, his hands sheepishly in the pockets of his coat.

"Mr. Dawson. Hello. What brings you here?"

"Can we speak in private, Miss Bukater?"

"Uh certainly."

She closed her sketchbook and pulled herself up to stand. The two quietly started to stroll across the deck, passing by many of the passengers enjoying the afternoon air and the breathtaking view. Jack, still nervous, refused to slip his hands out of his pockets.

"So, what is it that you have to tell me?"

"I wanted to apologize about the stupid incident that happened last night..I don't know what came over me, I just felt so suffocated in my life, I couldn't take it – huh, you must think right now how stupid I am, like what does a rich boy know anything about misery."

Rose turned her head to look at Jack. Behind the nervousness in his expression, she can easily see through that mask that there is a deep hidden vulnerability he is trying to bury. To assure him, she shook her head, with her eyes looking firmly at him in all seriousness.

"No. What I was thinking was what reason is there for a young man like you, someone who could do so much in life, suddenly want to choose death over continuing to live."

Jack finally took the courage to look at her. He didn't expect for her to answer like that. And miraculously his nervousness slowly melted away. "My life is a living clock. One minute I'm in one room, the next I'm talking to the same ladies I known all my life...I know the future of my days from the back of my hand. Nothing new happens. It's just..simply the same. I was sick of it. I still am. Just wearing clothes like this made me feel, that night, like some forced child, I was not comfortable wearing them and wanted to run away. So I just ran and ran, ignoring my father calling out to me...Huh. When I was at the rails, I was ready to jump, I was mad and determined to make every one of them feel sorry."

"Course they'll be sorry. But it's not worth losing the chance to witness that if you're dead."

Jack bowed his head low, feeling disappointed in himself. "I feel like such a fool."

"Hey, you're not. People make mistakes sometimes, that's purely just nature..By the way, that crowned peacock last night, is she really your fiancée?"

Jack lifted his head, returning his gaze back at Rose. "Crowned Peacock? Oh! You mean, Kathy? I'm afraid so. We've been engaged for nearly three months."

"Afraid so? Now that's a response I don't hear everyday from the groom-to-be."

"It's not a marriage of love. Just a financial affair, really."

"Does she know this?"

"Yes."

Rose sighed. "You don't love her."

It isn't even a question, more like a fact. Jack nodded sadly, his eyes again looking hard and tormented as they once looked the night he almost lost his life.

"I never did. She's..unbearable. I can't imagine a future with her."

"Then don't marry her," she shrugged her shoulders, "There. Problem solved."

He lightly chuckled humorlessly. "I wish things are simple with me and Kathy as you say. But it's not."

"Sure it _is_, Jack. There is no future for a loveless marriage. It's a waste of money to arrange for some big fancy wedding if the couple knows that they carry no feelings for one another."

"That may be. But there are people I care dearly who are depending on me to make this marriage work. I can't just push them away..I just can't."

A pause started between them. Jack, not wanting this awkward silence to continue, looked around to find something to talk about. When he caught the sight of Rose's sketchbook, he slowly took it from her hands. She allowed him to look through it.

"What is this?"

Jack carefully examined page to page, flipping one sheet after another in a slow pace. There are sketches of only people all in different ages and sizes. And he is appalled of remarkably beautiful they are, the way she captured the random moments and drew on them on paper are amazing of how her art skills reflect to what she observes with only her eyes. From a woman who looks like she dropped out of school early, is amazing how she has such a talent without any professional help.

"These are amazing."

Rose smiled, pleased with all her work and to hear a compliment from him. "Thank you..They all tell a story of my life."

"Stories. Really? What kind of stories can you possibly have on these sketches," he showed her some nudes she drew of naked women posing in graceful poses, "I would love to know about them."

"I was in Paris during the winter. You see, I managed to make few cents in fairs and parks by selling some sketches from people who wanted their families and friends to be drawn for only ten cents. It was a good deal, I made a dollar everyday. But those times were only lucky for summer, during winter was a different story. Now to continue with what happened next, while I was still in Paris I wanted to get a job with drawing. So one cold evening I stopped by a bar, bought some cheap wine and looked around at some of the showgirls there. They all were very beautiful, scandalous with their short dresses and exposed thighs, yet still breathtaking. I went up to them and made a little arrangement that I wanted to draw them in my studio – not exactly my studio, it's an empty café place that I broke into. American women are different than those French girls, the Europeans are all more willing to take their clothes off.

"It was very awkward going through the process, but I got used it for the first hour. After I was done, I paid them little money before they left. But this is where I found out a little secret why they even agreed to help me in the first place. It turns out every one of those women were lesbians. I actually answered 'oh' because two of them kept looking at my legs while I was drawing; there was no chair in that place so I had to sit on the floor, to make myself comfortable I separated my legs to draw them. Once they left, I stayed in Paris for another two days, but without asking any favors to have any stranger take their clothes off for me to draw their own nudity. The first try was horrifically exciting, but not an experience I want to go through again."

An amused smile curved on Jack's lips, the natural four lines folding on his smooth temple. "You mean to tell me these women are French lesbians?"

"Shocking, isn't it?..I know it's silly. I promise I won't talk about this at the dinner you kindly offered to invite me to, but you must promise me you won't tell a single soul about this."

"I swear it."

"Good."

Jack turned his attention back at her sketches, flipping another page to look at. "I don't think I ever felt so amused ever since my father fell down the stairs from drinking too much."

"You..You look good when you smile, you know? I like it."

He stopped, his eyes slowly going up to where hers are. The smile on his lips that almost reached to his eyes, disappeared, and the vulnerable mask he worn from the very start he met her returned to his expression.

"Do you?"

She looked at him with full confidence, and with a simper she replied. "Yes, you should do it more often. Its unhealthy for a person to wear such a saddening look like you do, its to obvious something is troubling you."

"...You're actually the first person to catch that."

A sudden awkward silence started between them again. When Jack slowly handed her sketchbook back, she thought fiercely to think of a way to break the ice of this unwanted gap between them. An idea popped up to her after much thought. She took Jack by the arm, ignoring his surprise of this close interaction. She smiled, and wrapped her arm around his, embracing her other free arm around the same one.

"You don't mind if I try to look a bit lady-like, do you?"

"Uh..No, of course not. But why are you – "

She shrugged her shoulders, cutting off his sentence. "I miss doing this. As matter of fact, I have never been escorted with a gentleman for years, not even a cute one. But I guess today I'm lucky."

Jack smiled, Rose can feel her insides turning like warm sunlight. Earning a smile from a complex man like Jack is certainly like winning a jack pot in a casino. The two reached to the bar rails of the deck, showing the view of the sea and the welcoming sunlight shining on the almighty Titanic. Rose looked ahead at the blue sky, breathing in deep into the fresh smell of the ocean..Just cold and clean. Jack has been raised to be a gentleman since birth, but seeing Rose's beautiful red curls being blown away beautifully by the wind made it hard for him to resist to look at her. His eyes drawn carefully at her fair white skin, her random hair being blown away but perfectly that captures the color of her unique colored eyes. He looked away sheepishly when she turned her head to look at him couple of times, but every time she looked the other way, he returned his gaze back at Rose.

"This place is certainly beautiful..Hmm. But it definitely cannot beat my time in a ferry I took once in Venice."

Jack, feeling relieved to no longer hide his action of long stares, he placed a warm hand on one of her slightly cold wrist. "Please, do tell."

"Well, Venice was absolutely marvelous but money was the issue for me. I couldn't afford to get on this one ferry before heading back to America – I spent my other two dollars for lunch, but I managed to sneak in and hide under some cramped room in the sailors' driveway room. Boy, was that difficult. The captain was in the room, while I was under some equipped boxes that controlled the ship, trying not to bump my head, I bit my tongue and silenced my horrible sniffling for the entire ride. But after about a horrible twenty minutes, the captain stepped outside, I took that chance to escape. That was when I had my fun. The waters were beautiful, the houses, and the random people passing by in the street..Not only was the view perfect though, but also the passengers on it, I managed to make a little money by doing my drawing business with some of them – some were Americans like me, I faked a good Italian ascent and even buried my body and hair in my ragged clothes to show them I was some long-lost famous Italian artist, it fooled them perfectly."

Jack chuckled. "That's the issue with Americans. We believe in everything if it has a little ascent to it."

"I agree. And I even proved it with my little story," Rose freed one of her hands from Jack's arm, and rubbed up and down on her upper arms, "Brr...It's a little chilly out here. Can we get moving? I think if I stretch my legs I'll be able to warm up."

Rose and Jack turned around, still clinging onto each other arm to arm, continued across further on the deck. Another silence started again, but this time it didn't bother neither one of them that much. It seemed better whether one of them started talking or not now.

"You know, Miss Buktaker – "

"Rose. Please, let's not address each other so formally. I feel uncomfortable with that."

"Rose. Alright. Well, you know, Rose, I..I wish I was just like you. I too have a passion for art as much as you do, but I never had the confidence to confess that truth to my father, he would never approve. But I always dreamed of becoming an artist and go anywhere in the world I want, away from my father and cut off from my family too – hmgh, if you call them family."

"Jack, you wouldn't be able to last more than two days. It doesn't matter if you have a good hand or not, the world is harsh that way and there's no cozy future for any artist continuing their career in the street..Yet, there is a fun side to it. My starting career was in Los Angeles. That place was more like fun for me other than just for serious work. Do you know that there's rollercoasters there? Oh, how I hate it when I spent my precious money on those rides, but I never resisted every time. In fact, if I ever have the chance to stop you, Mr. Confused-I'm-so-sad-face, continue to be like this, I'll take you there myself. Yeah, it's a wonderful idea, if you think about it. We'll drink cheap beer, and ride the rollercoaster as much as we want until we throw up..of course, you'll have to cut the gentleman- like manners because you have to ride like a cowboy, and I enjoy wearing my dress daily without sitting sideways like a lady."

Jack playfully folded the perfect lines on his temple once again, showing a devious simper. "Ooo very scandalous."

"Which is why my stepmother still curses my name to this day. But I promise I'll show you, if you want. I bet that you never seen a girl separate her legs wide before in a dress."

A slight blush formed on his cheeks. "You stand correctly. But I wouldn't mind changing that."

"There you go, just crack open that shield you been protecting yourself in, Jack. It's okay to be improper and free sometimes," she tilted her head slightly, smiling, "I mean, look at me, I've been like this since I was twelve and I turned out just fine."

"You sure have," he sarcastically stated with a fresh smile forming perfectly on his lips, flashing the whites of his teeth.

"So what do you say? You promise to set this dead soul inside you to break free?"

"I promise."

Rose lifted her head upright. "Good," she looked ahead at the horizon, "And for starters, I'll show you the first lesson to this journey, Jack. Now promise me you _will _do it, instead of backing out."

"It depends. What is this lesson you're starting with, Miss Bukater?"

She gave a stern look in the corner of her eye, waving her second finger at him signaling that was wrong. "Jack, enough of addressing me as 'Miss' when it's not needed. You already broke the rules."

"There's a rule?"

"Of course, now where was I?..Right, now this is the lesson. I'll teach you how to do something that I learned two weeks after I dropped out of school, this boy who was selling boxes of cigarettes taught me this."

She coughed harshly, and spat the saliva out. The gob of saliva perfectly went over the water. Jack looked at her shocked of this action. Rose released his arm, her body facing toward him with a hand resting on her hip.

"What's the matter, Jack? Never seen a woman spit? Now you promised you won't back out. So show me, it's your turn."

"First I never promised that. And lastly second, I haven't done that since I was five, and quite frankly, you're doing it all wrong."

"Oh really? Have you forgotten that I'm the teacher right now, and you're the student?"

Jack's eyes squinted slightly from the sunlight, the natural lines on his forehead still intact. He walked toward the rails of the fence. "Then watch and learn, Rose, and see the real expert do the job."

Jack pounded his chest lightly with his fist, coughing a little until he gathered enough saliva to spit out. Rose watched carefully, waiting patiently. He then leaned slightly close to the rails and spit. The bit of gathered saliva went over the water just as well as Rose did. Jack turned around to face her, spreading his arms out like a champion taking the walk of fame.

"Told you."

Rose pursed her lips, and marched two steps closer where he is. "Oh, just a minute ago you played this first-class gentleman, and now you're a real boy in the street, huh? Well, Jack Dawson, this challenge is not over. I got more coming in my mouth. I demand a rematch."

Jack shrugged his shoulders with a proud smile. "I have no complaints to that."

The two faced their bodies at the barred rails, and they both coughed hard to gather all the saliva they can gather in their mouths. Right before they were about to spit, a voice interrupted them.

"Jack?" A firm feminine voice started.

Jack gulped hard, and slowly turned around. Rose did so as well after seeing him strangely turning back around. She was appalled to see him compose himself so quickly. He casually straightened his coat and the smile he showed to her so much disappeared with a thin serious line.

"Mrs. Petrove, may I introduce Rose Bukater."

Mrs. Petrove, found to be a woman in her late 40s, wore an expensive dress embroidered with a heavy use of roses and turquoise painted floral patterns. Her slightly gray and brown hair tied up in a large bun, almost making her head bigger, with a flashy hairpin planted deep inside in the side of her hair. She looked at Rose with an emotionless look. But any observer can tell she does not like the idea of being present with people like Rose, shortly know as the 'poor'.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

Beside Mrs. Petrove is the rebellious, yet infamous Molly Brown. She almost laughed when she caught a small stream of saliva rushing down Rose's chin, and apparently Rose doesn't seem to notice that.

"Jack, not that I am very much interested, but tell me before I leave of how you know this woman?" Mrs. Petrove asked.

"This woman is the one who saved my life last night. I invited for dinner as a reward for what she did. You'll see her again in just a few short hours."

Mrs. Petrove didn't leave her eyes away from Rose and it made the young woman more uncomfortable, tempting to walk away and return back to her cabin.

"Well, if she is to join us, I hope she will attend dressed to something other than the stained attire she's wearing now."

The woman speaks as if Rose isn't even there. But Jack responded, pretending not to notice that. "Kathy prepared an outfit for her. Miss Bukater will fit in just fine, Mrs. Petrove."

"I hope so..Hmgh. I better talk to my daughter about this. Goodbye."

Jack bowed his head low. "Madam."

Mrs. Petrove turned to leave, but Molly Brown remained behind. She looked straight at Rose and released the tempted laugh she's been holding for so long. Once she recovered, she turned her attention back at the young woman.

"There's no way I'm going to let that slimy brat to dress you up, girl. I know the way she works from the back of my hand. I bet right this moment she's picking out by far the ugliest dress she can find in her maids' rooms."

"Mrs. Brown, I'm aware of how Kathy is," Jack responded.

"Well, what I'm talking about doesn't concern you now, does it? Now how about you come with me, girl? You don't even have to bother to see what kind of outfit that broken china doll picked out for you. I was once young and thin like you; still have my trunk from my youth. I was planning to save it in the attic by the time we reach our destination, but I don't see how one of those dresses shouldn't enjoy an evening to be free. What do you say, girl?"

Rose looked confused and turned her gaze at Jack. "I..uh completely forgot I have to dress fancy and all. I was actually planning on wearing what I'm wearing now. Besides, its just for one night, no harm done by that."

Molly laughed again until tears rolled down her eyes. "Oh, a pretty face like you sure are clueless of the way _we_ run things around in this whole big society..Girl, tonight you're not going to some dinner party filled with fancy food and cigar smoke, no, you're going to enter the snakepit. And as horrible as that seems, girls like you need to dress to impress to prevent any prepared nasty looks from the other girls in that large room. Now come on, this time I'm not going to take no for an answer."

She wrapped an arm around Rose's. Rose looked at Jack, placing a hand on his arm before Molly took off. "But..Jack?..."

Molly stopped. With a slight puff, she looked ahead at Jack. "You don't mind if I take your lady away, now do you?"

"I would mind if your intention was to just have some company. But since you're only helping, how can I possibly mind, Mrs. Brown?"

Molly nodded, and nudged Rose in the shoulder. "See. He understands. Now let's get going. It'll take me a good ten minutes to start tampering that rusty lock on that trunk. No one opened that for nearly twenty-five years."

Molly dragged her away. Rose turned her head to look at Jack, giving him a confusing yet exciting smile. He waved goodbye at her, and shouted out something for her to hear. "I'll see you tonight! Don't worry, we'll meet again!"

~ In Molly's stateroom, over five different kinds of dresses are laid messily on the bed. Rose stands in front of a mirror, wearing the dress Molly finally decided was perfect for her. The dress is a brick and violet colored fabric over a black veil decorated with pearls and diamonds lined up in a perfect swirling line, in the bottom of the small train; the black veil expose the glimpse of the fine brick color of the other fabric over it. As for Rose's once free red curls, they are now tied up in a flat looking bun, a few short curls released to make her hair not to look too flat and plain. And her bare arms are now covered with white gloves reaching all the way to the elbow. She does not like the feeling of her hands being covered, but since its only for one night, it is a small sacrifice she has to make for the evening.

Molly has been searching for the jewelry to finish Rose's look for over an hour. But after a good soul searching, she finally approached Rose with what she was looking for. Molly first put the necklace around Rose's neck, a necklace that is designed with the finest diamonds that Rose only saw in cheap paintings hung in restaurants. There are earrings that match the necklace. But since Rose's ears are not pierced, Molly managed to find earrings that are clip-ons without hooks. She put them on each of her ears and smoothed her gloved hands on the skirt of the dress.

"There. You look mighty pretty, now don't you?"

"More like too different. Really..I can hardly recognize myself right now."

Rose's eyes looked ahead at the mirror, just staring so deeply at her reflection. The beautiful girl in the view is certainly a stranger, and it slightly excites her to be able to become some kind of Cinderella in a fairytale for once in her life.

Molly smiled tiredly, feeling pleased of her work. "My, my, my...you shine like a new penny."

~ Jack, in his usual black tuxedo and white bowtie, stood by the First Class Grand Staircase with his non-stop talking fiancée, clutching onto his arm. There she goes again talking to some random lady on deck, whom she claims is her friend even though she only spoken to her at breakfast for the first time, about the wedding. Her tone and reaction about the whole plan is exceedingly so cheerful and positive. But for Jack it feels more like a nightmare.

"Oh but I can't wait for the delivery to come. My mother and I shopped for my wedding dress all the way in France. Oh, the dress was just so divine I could not reject."

"But you sure you don't have cold feet, Kathy? A wedding is beautiful, yes, but it is marriage you're discussing." The woman said.

"Yes, but I'm sure my fiancé here and I will worry about that later on," she pressed her cheek on Jack's shoulder, "Right, darling?"

"Hmgh. Sure." Jack mumbled.

Kathy giggled uneasily and continued her conversation. Suddenly, Jack caught someone standing in the top of the fine staircase. The first appearance is Molly Brown, dressed in a formal busty attire as she always does, and then a new fresh looking Rose beside her. Jack fell in awe as he saw the once rebellious girl in the white dress with her hair down to an enchanting young lady covered in diamonds like the daughter of a merchant. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one staring at Rose, others in the room caught sight of the new looking face, including Kathy.

Hot steam burned Kathy's ears in fury. "H-How in the world did she find that outfit? Did she steal it? Yes, she definitely stole it. That is not the outfit I chose for her."

"She did not steal it, Kathy. Mrs. Brown offered to help her this afternoon."

One of her eyebrows arched with a feeling of curiosity. "How do you know that? Were you with that girl today?"

Jack fell speechless but before he could explain himself, Rose already came down the stairs with Molly on her side. Kathy pursed her lips tightly and looked straight at Rose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the woman who saved my darling Jack. For a minute there I couldn't recognize you, you almost can pull off as a young lady, Ruth."

"_Rose_," she corrected, "And good evening to you, Miss Petrove. Jack."

"Rose, you look lovely." He muttered softly.

Rose smiled at that compliment but that only infuriated Kathy even more. She squeezed her arm around Jack's until he almost gagged and forced him to turn around.

"Let's go, shall we? I need a drink."

They all entered to the reception. Everyone spent the short few minutes of exchanging cocktails and champagne with served small appetizers before dinner was announced to be served. Kathy drank over three glasses of champagne earlier, and refused to release Jack. She looks a bit drunk and the redness is ruining the completion on her cheeks. Thankfully, Mrs. Petrove caught her daughter behaving so scandalously, she collected her daughter away from Jack – more like forcing her – and took her to the lavatory to fix her makeup. Jack, now free from Kathy, went over to a lonely Rose. She smiled as he wrapped his arm around hers, just the same way as they did in the afternoon when they met for the second time.

"Some evening, huh?" He asked with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"More like a dream. An enchanting dream."

Jack leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered. "Don't let these people fool you. They're not that perfect as they seem."

"Oh really. Then give me a tour. I need all the information I can get before dinner starts."

"Gladly."

The two took small steps, and Jack whispered in her ear of each person he pointed at of who they are and the scandal they carry. Rose fell intrigued and amused to hear so much of all these strangers she doesn't know of, and how ridiculously pitiful their reputations are.

"And over there, that's Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals..I once caught Kathy talking to her two nights ago for a favor, asking to have one of her heavenly lingerie for our wedding night. I assure you I am quite frightened of what she chose. Her effort to kiss me is hard enough. Seeing her naked will most definitely lead me to my early death."

"Oh boy, maybe a little accident can make her forget about that lingerie. A simple black eye, maybe?" Rose insisted with a devious curve of a smile.

"That is a good plan. But that'll also result to her pouring out all her whining on me. So it concludes to be not the best decision to make..Oh. And lastly, this member you _must_ know," Jack eyed a man wearing a fine suit and a young teenage woman beside him, "That's John Jacob Astor..the richest man on the ship. The little lady there beside him is unfortunately not his daughter but his wife, she is only three months younger than Kathy, and in a delicate condition. Quite a scandal really."

"Poor girl. If I end up marrying a man who's the same age as my father, God rest his poor soul, I would have left him before the wedding."

"Not all girls are confident and strong as you."

Rose looked up at him, and arched an eyebrow. "I'm receiving a lot of compliments from you, Mr. Dawson. Is it just the dress talking, or are the words you speak meaningful as they sound?"

"You look beautiful, yes, Rose. But I assure you, the dress isn't what's hypnotizing me to flatter you, I'm only saying it because I mean it and I want to do it as much as possible before my little future-to-be-wifey returns."

"..Hmm. Well, if that's the truth, Jack, then thank you. You look very handsome, too. And about your little Kathy, I understand perfectly now that you mentioned her."

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He leaned closer in her ear, but keeping his eyes straight at someone Rose can't seem to guess who it is. "Here comes the devil now."

Both Jack and Rose turned to face Astor and his wife. Astor, his eyes wandering pleasingly down at Rose's fine curves, opened out his hand, and Rose took it, shaking it while eyeing his wife who's pretending not to notice her husband's behavior.

"I'm John Astor, it is a pleasure to meet you. Are you Jack's cousin?"

Rose shook her head. "No. Just a passenger on this ship."

She tried to release his hand, but he refused to let go. Jack, angry by this, gave him a look that signaled him to release her hand.

"J.J., Madeleline, I'd like you to meet Rose Marie Bukater."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Bukater," Madeline greeted with a soft voice.

Rose smiled at the small beautiful girl, clearly Madeline is the same age as she is. Even though she hardly knows the girl, how terribly broken and ice cold the girl is tells the story of the scars she keeps hidden from others. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Astor. And I must say, you look quite ravishing in your gown. Is it new?"

Madeline did not smile, but a small beam of confidence started to build in her broken heart. "No. I wore this before not a few nights ago."

"Well, it's very beautiful," she eyed John Astor still unable to keep his eyes off Rose, "But what a pity your husband here doesn't think the same. Don't you know, Mr. Astor, the more a husband pleases and flatters his wife, the longer the marriage will last? If such effort is not shown, then who knows when the lawyer will stop by with the divorce papers?"

Mr. Astor's wandering eyes froze, freezing into a deafening look of anger and embarrassment in less than a second. But before he attacked her of how insulted he feels, Rose tightened her arm around Jack and turned around, walking quickly with a laugh as fast as she can.

~ Once dinner started, Rose was arranged to be seated opposite from Jack yet they both are able to exchange looks easily with one another. When everyone settled down, Rose immediately became the target to question by Mrs. Petrove.

Mrs. Petrove settled her dinner napkin neatly on her lap. When she took a sip of her glass of wine, she looked ahead at Rose, and felt ready to prove to everyone on the table that she is most certainly not one of them, but a mere and poor passenger, more like a dreamer to be rich as everyone else here.

"So, Miss Bukater, tell us the accommodations in steerage. I hear they're quite good on this ship."

Rose, not fearing to tell the truth, answered. "Very good, ma'am. The best one I've ever been on. Hardly any rats."

She saw from the corner of her eye of what everyone is doing. When she turned her gaze back at Jack, he motioned her to lay her dinner napkin on her lap. She gave him a slight nod and did so.

"Miss Bukater here is from third class. Just last night she was kind enough to save Jack from a horrible accident. Her presence here is only for the reward _I_ kindly suggested." She lied, with a sly curve of her red pasted lips.

The others whispered in disapproval, and questioned why a person like Rose is here, regardless of the remarkable accomplishment she earned to join a fine dinner as this, it is unacceptable to have an outsider like her to attend to such a high regarded event as this.

A waiter in a penguin black tuxedo stepped forward behind Kathy's seat with a silver tray on his hand, carrying organized sides to serve the caviar. Kathy, not even bothering to look at the waiter, spoke casually with her eyes darting daggers straight at Rose.

"How do you take your caviar, ma'am?" The waiter asked.

"Just a soupcon of lemon..It improves the taste with the champagne."

She smiled at Rose, waiting of how in the world she's going to respond to something she never tasted in her life, and never bought such an impossibly expensive food. When another waiter appeared behind Rose, she, the same way as Kathy did, ordered as casual and calm as she can manage.

"No caviar for me, thank you..I never liked the taste anyway. Besides, it's shameful to chew away on innocent baby eggs that have been fished out from the sea."

When Kathy turned away for a brief moment to whisper something to the woman sitting beside her, Rose took this chance to have a one second communication with Jack. She mimicked a poker-face look, mimicking almost like Kathy. Jack smiled, and even let out a small, quiet chuckle. Rose immediately composed her expression when Kathy turned her gaze back on her.

"And where do you exactly live, Miss Bukater?" Mrs. Pertrove asked another question. Clearly her plan to humiliate Rose isn't exactly working as she hoped it would; Rose seems very proud to tell the truth and seems to make zero effort to lie anything about herself to impress everyone in the table.

"Oh there isn't exactly an address for me. I'm more like..like a nomad, madam. I wander one place to the other, and wait until any sign appears for me to move on again. But for now, my address is here, in the Titanic. Hopefully by the time we get off this ship that address will change."

Salad is now served. Several waiters placed the salads in front of the guests without speaking one word, and moved hastily in order not to intrude their conversations. Rose looked around and found everyone starting on their salad. She turned her focus down on her plate and discovered that there are more than one set of silverware placed between the plate – three different sets for both the three main silverware. To take a wild guess, she picked the first fork her hand touched. Jack, knowing she picked the wrong one, instantly cleared his throat loudly for her to hear. But before she lifted her head to look at Jack, someone else came to the rescue.

A gentleman beside her, who has been actually keeping a wandering eye at her, took her hand gently. She immediately dropped the fork, making a slight noise, and turned her head at the man looking a bit stunned. The man smiled, and moved her hand to the right fork and she picked it up.

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Butaker."

"And you are?"

"Caledon Nathan Hockley. But I go by Cal."

"I'm Rose, Rose De-I mean, Marie Bukater."

He released her hand and when he released it, she quickly released the fork and slipped her hand underneath the table. Again his eyes looked down at the young woman that did not concern Rose at all. After receiving the same treatment this very evening, she's probably used to this by now. But the only who is not on the same boat as her, apparently, is Jack. He hardly knows Rose, but for some reason, the jealously building him shows as if he known her more than two days.

But the main reason to his jealously is the history behind the wealthy Caledon Hockley. Before he inherited the Pittsburgh steel fortune from his father, he created a scandalous reputation with a great deal with women. No one knows of his rules of considering short-term relationships with only making things physical with all the women he meets, however, the only who does know are the women he singlehandly broken, his family and Jack. Cal is Kathy's first cousin and he joined her to be on the ship to attend her wedding. From the beginning, Jack was never fond of Cal and discovered he hated him more ever since he caught him attending hotels with different women over six times. Jack knows Rose is certainly a clever woman out of how the floozies Cal has been with, but he still does not like how roaming his pleased eyes are acting - clearly desiring her to be on his bed.

"Marie Bukater? What a charming name. What exactly do you do?"

"For a living? Well, I'm an artist, not exactly the best career a girl should choose for a future, but it is my passion."

"An artist. How interesting. I would love to see some of your work."

Rose crossed her arms, masking her face to a game-on look she gives to most of her customers. "Oh, Cal. That's going to cost you. The words 'for free' does not exist in my vocabulary."

Cal smiled, reaching to the dangerous look of his eyes. "I'll make sure my wallet is in my pocket before you show me. If you're willing to do so."

"Most certainly. Just make sure there's plenty of cash in that wallet of yours."

"I will."

Mrs. Petrove interrupted them, successfully breaking the two off from their warm interaction. "Miss Bukater, tell me, do you find that sort of rootless existence appealing to you?"

"Well...it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. See, my folks – except for my stepmother – died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I've been on the road ever since. Something like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count."

Molly, sitting three chairs away from Rose, raised her glass in a salute. "Well said, Rose."

Colonel Gracie did so as well. "Here, here."

Jack followed both their action, his eyes looking straight at Rose. "To making it count."

Everyone else, all except for Mrs. Petrove and Kathy, raised their glasses high and clanged each others'. Mrs. Petrove, feeling angry of supposedly supporting Rose to receive such positive attention, pressed on. But before she opened her mouth again, Kathy took the lead this time.

"What exactly do you do again, Rose? You never told me."

_'Well you never asked, you little brat.'_ Rose thought furiously in her mind.

But to continue the conversation, she forced a smile, leaning back on her seat. "I work my way around, really. Tramp steamers and such. I earned my opportunity to get on the Titanic from winning a ticket in a poker game with a lucky hand," she turned her gaze at Jack, "A _very_ lucky hand."

Kathy looked at Jack that forced him to look the other way. Once she looked back at Rose, Cal saved Rose by grabbing her attention to start a conversation again. Kathy, gripping tightly on her dinner napkin, turned her eyes away from Rose, and relieved her stern expression to soften.

'_I have nothing to worry about. One look at a girl like her from Cal, then the next minute she'll surely ends up in his bed. It won't be long until Jack loses interest to a whore like that.'_

**_What do you think? Hate Kathy and Cal? Me too. But hey, this fanfiction would be boring as well hell without them. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Goodbye._**


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